Healing Takes Time
by Bishonen no Hime
Summary: Just months after a horrific tragedy, Arthur Hellsing must tell his 7 year old Integra that there really are monsters in the dark. Not quite as dark as it sounds.


Disclaimer:  I don't own anyone really, except the name of Integra's mother….

AN:  Okay, this started out as an idea with little Integra trying to decide what to do for a living and asking her daddy who then has to break the truth to her.  It came out as something almost completely different.  

Please be aware that I am taking a HUGE amount of liberties in this fic.  First off, it's in Integra's father's point of view, so I had to take liberties with his character.  I am calling Integra's father Arthur, even though I have hear several different names for him; I just like Arthur best and I think it fits.  Also, I grabbed one of the scenes Integra sees in Ep. 9 and ran with it.  You'll know it when you get to it.

Healing Takes Time

Arthur Hellsing walked steadily toward the large library that took up half of the second floor in the west wing of his family manor.  He was returning the heavy tome in his hands that he had taken to his office for research on entrapment spells and seals.  The walls of the old building seemed colder than they always had before, the halls quieter than they had before _it_ had happened.  Arthur sighed and shook his head to clear away some of the thoughts, causing some of his short antique blonde hair over his brow.  He ran a had absently through his hair, setting it right, as he walked down the empty corridors.  It was nine o'clock in the evening, he didn't expect anyone in the main house to be up besides himself and Walter, the family retainer and Hellsing soldier should the need arise.

He was mildly surprised to see that a dim light was creeping its way through the door to the library, which was cracked open just slightly.  He pushed open the door, which slid silently along well-oiled hinges, to find that the light was coming from the small lamp on top of a large oaken desk that rested underneath the tall windows that seemed particular to the manor.  A small frown creased his brow when he realized that his daughter sat at the desk with a thick book underneath the lamp, leaning over it to make out the words in the dim light.  His daughter, his little Integra; Lord how she had changed so much over the past 5 months.  Gone was his darling little 7 year old who would skip through the grim halls and smile without the slightest provocation.  Now her smiles were small, and never quite seemed to reach her eyes and she certainly did not skip.  But that was to be expected, especially with what had happened to her mother, or so the doctor had told him.  With a slight twist, Arthur turned and flicked on the overhead lights that immediately flooded the room with bright, artificial light.  He watched as his daughter started horribly, her moonlight blonde hair swirled around her shoulders as her head jerked in his direction.  He noted worriedly that her cerulean eyes were wide with shock and a little bit of fear.

"You shouldn't read in the dark like that Integra.  You'll ruin your eyesight."

"Yes, Father."  Arthur stilled a sigh; she no longer called him Dad, or Daddy, that was yet another thing that had changed.  No, now it was Father, like he was some distant man who only appeared in her life every so often.  He didn't need to think about this now, he thought distractedly to himself as he slid the book in his hands back onto its shelf.  With a string of odd vampire attacks lately, he needed to focus on things of the present, not of the past that couldn't be changed.  Between the death of his wife and the consequential shattering of his daughter's childhood innocence, he'd hardly had time lately to properly do his work.  And now he was hearing odd rumors, barely whispered things that seemed more theory than fact, of _artificial_ vampires, as if _natural_ vampires weren't enough of a thorn in his side.  He doubted such a preposterous thing would ever come to fruit; in the course of his studies, he had learned that there were just far too many things that made a vampire a vampire to be reproduced exactly as they needed to be.  He looked back to his daughter to see that she was engrossed in her book, her legs and the hem of her thick nightdress tucked messily underneath her in her seat and the book in her lap.

"What are you reading so intently over there?"  He asked not unkindly as he walked over to the stand beside the desk.  She jerked slightly and clamped the book shut with a sudden thud.

"Oh, it's n-nothing.  J-just some book is all."  Arthur looked down at his nose at his daughter who refused to met his eyes that matched her own.  If he knew anything about his daughter, it was that she was a horrible liar.

"May I see it?"  He asked in the same voice and held out his hand.  Integra handed him the heavy volume without so much as a glance.  The moment it was in his hand, Arthur recognized the leather bound journal.  Journal perhaps wasn't the best term for it; it was more of a "Creatures of the Night Encyclopedia" written by someone who Arthur knew had had extensive experiences with such creatures.  Arthur flipped it open a few pages and ran his fingers lightly over his own grandfather's handwriting, submersed briefly in an ocean of nostalgia from his own childhood, sitting in this very room reading this same book.  He looked down at his daughter sternly as he moved to lean on the desk.

"What page were you on?" He asked, knowing full well that she had looked and logged it way so she could resume her reading again once he had left.  When she merely shrugged her shoulders, Arthur walked briskly over to her and knelt down to her level.  When she tried to turn her head, he gripped her chin firmly and forced her to face him.  He narrowed his own azure eyes as he said the only warning she'd get.

"Integra…"

"419."  She told him simply as she averted her gaze.  Letting go of her, Arthur stood and thumbed the worn volume to the page she had told him, absently registering chapter titles and words as the pages flipped by.  He watched out of the corner of his eye as Integra curled her legs up in front of her to rest her chin on her knees and wrap her arms around her legs, her slippers were still on her feet.  Undoubtedly, she had slipped back down her after Walter had put her to bed.  Arthur stopped flipping abruptly as he realized that he had passed the page a bit, and flipped back a couple pages.  He had been hoping that the page would find him immersed in the detailed sketches and descriptions of unicorns, something like she would have been looking at six months ago, but he was nowhere near ready to read what his daughter already had.

             _"…and it has come to my immediate attention that the Hellsings are not the only family sworn to eradicating the undead and other unholy creatures that foul our Lord's creation with their vile presence. There are just a few other families, most of them far older than our own, who join us in our hunt.  And just as with us, the leadership tends to fall on the eldest child of the direct descendant of the Hellsing Organization's founder, my father, Abraham Van Helsing…"_

Arthur glanced over the rest of the page that went into details of the family's hierarchy system of determining the successor to the head of Hellsing, and all the responsibilities of that person.

"You read all of this?" He asked, already knowing her answer.  His daughter merely nodded her head against her knees; Arthur sighed heavily and he leaned back against the desk, looking down at his only child.  He hadn't intended to tell her of this until she was at least ten years old; he himself hadn't known until he was fifteen that it had hit him extremely hard.  Mostly because he had been deeply involved in trying to seriously decide what he wanted to have as a career at the time his father had finally seen fit to tell him.  It had both outraged him and broken his spirit a bit, knowing that he could never be what he wanted to be when he grew up.  So he had decided before he had even married that he would tell his child, or children, earlier than he had been informed of his destiny.

"Mum lied to me."  She said out of the blue.  Arthur felt as if he had been physically struck, the pain in his heart and head that suddenly exploded hurt so bad.  Her mother had been a sensitive subject for both of them during the last 5 months, since her death.  Images flashed across his mind; an ungodly amount of blood stained the tiled walls of the bathroom, still fresh enough to drip down the creases.  His wife, Iria, laying in the tub, the water tainted red with her blood, the same blood on the walls, and the floor, her arm draped lifeless over the side.  The side of her neck ripped open in a gaping, ugly wound, her life's blood just barely leaking out of what must have been a gushing wound.  Her once warm, chocolate eyes were wide and unfocused, seeing nothing as her lips stayed parted in an unheard scream.  Arthur had fallen to his knees as he stared into the blood-coated room, his trembling hands griping the doorframe hard enough to crack one of the edges off.  He'd been so engulfed by his shock, his total misery that he had forgotten that Integra had been there, that it was Integra that had found her mother…

"How do you mean?" His voice broke even though he tried with all his might to sound unperturbed for his little girl, and he cursed himself for it.

"Mum…" her own voice wavered before she continued, "Mum told me that there were no monsters.  None that could hurt us anyways."  Arthur felt his heart wrench as Integra lifted her head to gaze at him.  "But monsters killed her didn't they?"  Arthur dropped the book on the desk and bent down on his knees again in front of her and wrapped his arms around her bent legs, one hand clasping hers and the other reaching up to brush her long bangs out of her face.  He felt her fingers tremble lightly in his grasp as he looked into her eyes; and he suddenly wished he could comfort her with looks alone when he saw the still fresh grief there.

"I won't lie to you Little One." He whispered to her, using the nickname he had inadvertently given her when she was born.  "Yes, your mother was murdered by monsters."  She merely blinked at him; he realized that she had already come to this decision herself and wouldn't have changed her mind no matter what his answer had been.

"By vampires." She stated so matter-of-factly that it was his turn to blink.  He found himself giving her a small smile, the first one he'd given in some time, as he realized that even at her age she already had a lot of the things that would make her a great leader.  Intelligence, information gathering, and the ability to make her own decisions based upon the information she had at her disposal.

"Yes, by vampires."  He didn't dare tell her what was sealed in the dark dungeons below them.  Not now.  "The Hellsing Organization is dedicated to riding Great Britain of the Undead, specifically vampires and their subordinates."  She blinked at him.

"Subordinates?" She asked, slowly repeating the word with a tilt of her fair head.  Arthur smacked himself mentally; with his recent thoughts he had forgotten that Integra was still only a little girl.

"Their followers, ghouls." He thought for a moment, when something occurred to him.  "Kind of like movie zombies."  He saw her nose wrinkle up.

"Ewww."  He couldn't help but chuckle at the pure, childish honesty of her reaction.

"Definitely 'ew'."  He stood up and straitened out his slacks before holding his hand out to her.  "Come on, Little One.  It's well past your bedtime."  She put her small hand in his much larger one and stepped down from the chair as he turned the desk lamp off with a loud click of a switch.  They walked across the room together and Arthur was about to turn off the main switch of the room when she spoke suddenly.

"I don't have to touch them do I?  If I become the leader of Hellsing?"  She asked earnestly, her eyes pleading.

"Touch what?" He asked as he turned off the switch and walked with her through the open door.

"The gools." She said, pronouncing it incorrectly.  Arthur didn't have the heart to correct her, not with the look of abject seriousness that didn't fit her cherub-like face.  It was all he could do to not laugh out loud at her.  "They're icky…"

"No Integra, you don't have to touch any 'gools'." He told her as seriously as he could manage while he grinned down at her.

"Oh good.  I can lead Hellsing then."  She stated cheerfully as if that was her only requirement for accepting the position.  Arthur laughed out loud as he shut the library door, _'If she can just keep that self-assurance.'_

Walter watched as the two walked off, both smiling as if they lacked sense, and he couldn't help but smile too.  He had learned along time ago that healing was a very hard thing to do, and it did not come quickly, but only with the passage of time and love.  And their wounds might never fully heal, for there would always be a gap in their lives; Integra, losing her mum, has place in her heart that can never be filled the same way again.  And Arthur, having lost his wife, his true love and soul mate, would probably never welcome any sort of love in his life again, except the love of his daughter.  Even though their deep wounds weren't yet totally healed, the Lord and young Miss of the house were well on the road.   Walter couldn't help a chuckle as he watched Integra lead the way down the hall, tugging at her father's hand, saying something about a bedtime story.  

One with unicorns, and a knight in shining armor to save the princess in distress.

AN:  Awww, I'm warm and fuzzy now.  Not to mention grinning like an idiot.  Well, that definitely didn't turn out the way I originally planned it, but oh well.  Remember, I was just pulling most of this out of my head, so I'm not claiming any of the 'background' information as gospel truth.

I love reviews, but feel free to leave CONSTRUCTIVE criticism as well.  Don't just flame "Oh this is crap, moan moan, whine whine."  Be realistic about it please.


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